


An Interlude in Breathing

by CKBookish



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Conner Kent is a good bro, Depression, Gen, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Infinite Crisis (DCU), POV Kon-El | Conner Kent, This is a pain sandwich, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, Tim is Not Having A Good Time, for chapter two anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26178460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CKBookish/pseuds/CKBookish
Summary: Tim looked out over the water in a daze.  Bruce and Dick had gone somewhere below deck and he was alone.  Well there were strangers on the ship mingling and talking excitedly--but Tim gave them no notice.  Instead he watched the water lap up against the hull and crash down back to meet the dark, cold waters.  They were far enough out that he could no longer see the shore.  It was just endless expenses of sea and sky.  Something tickled his neck and he started, only to realize he had been crying.  It was only a tear slipping under his collar.The days after the battle of Infinite CrisisBatmanBingo2020: Superboy
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590904
Comments: 28
Kudos: 165





	1. Respiratory Failure

**Author's Note:**

> This Story is for my wonderful Clownbobs. I love you but it had to be done. I hope you don't hate me forever. 
> 
> Also I really will write you that happy ending I swear!
> 
> As always I love to hear from y'all!

We are finite

There is always a beginning and always an end

It seems so unfair that I’m forced to stay

* * *

Tim looked out over the water in a daze. Bruce and Dick had gone somewhere below deck and he was alone. Well there were strangers on the ship mingling and talking excitedly--but Tim gave them no notice. Instead he watched the water lap up against the hull and crash down back to meet the dark, cold waters. They were far enough out that he could no longer see the shore. It was just endless expenses of sea and sky. Something tickled his neck and he started, only to realize he had been crying. It was only a tear slipping under his collar. 

He gave a long sniff and ran his sleeve over his face. It was so loud here. He hadn’t expected it to be so… chaotic when Dick suggested the cruise. The wind and water rang in his ears almost as loudly as the battle had. The clanging of metal hooks and poles sounded like the clash of swords and shields. The popping of champagne in the distance was like gun fire. 

Tim hated it. 

He just wanted the world to stop. How did it just keep going when it felt like he had been knocked out of orbit-- as if the many Earths appearing had impacted his personal trajectory. But then, he supposed, it had. He wanted to stop and just… well he didn’t quite know. It was like he had been scooped out and left a hollow shell. All he knew was he hated it. He hated this ship. He hated this sea, this sky, he hated the very boards beneath his feet. What good were they? What good was  _ anything _ ?

“Tim?” 

Tim nearly went over the railing. He jumped away from the voice, panicked. Bruce froze his foot half off the ground. Tim watched him warily. Bruce’s arm hung, half outstretched, as if he had meant to put his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim narrowed his eyes. 

“I-- We were wondering if you wanted to join us for trivia? It’s in a few minutes.” Bruce was looking at him with a desperate expression. But what he was desperate for Tim could only guess. 

Forgiveness perhaps. Well that was something Tim couldn’t give. He hated him too much to forgive him, but he loved him too much not to. And  _ that  _ was too much to think about.

“No thanks.” Tim turned back to the sea. He would spend the whole trip here, watching and just trying to forget. 

“Tim, please. Just-- just do _anything_.” Bruce’s voice was thick and warm, and Tim  _ hated  _ it. It made him want to turn around and… and be weak. It made him want to give in and let Bruce fix it. But there were some things even the great Batman couldn't do and turn back time was one of them. 

Bruce signed when Tim didn’t so much as look at him. Tim watched him out of the corner of his eye as he moved to stand next to him. Bruce leaned down into the railing and just watched the water with him. 

Tim wasn’t sure how long they stood just looking out over the expanse, but it wasn’t until it was dark that Bruce finally pulled him away. Tim was too cold to fight him. 

He let Bruce put his arm around him and led him below deck. Tim hated how nice it felt-- Bruce’s arm around him. He hated how much he wanted it-- how much he wanted it to never go away. 

Dick and Alfred were playing chest in the lounge when Bruce pulled open the door to their suite. Dick glanced at them but made no move to greet them. Alfred stayed intent on the game before him. 

Bruce hesitated for only a moment, before pulling Tim towards his and Dick’s shared bedroom. But the anger had bubbled up again and suddenly that solace he had found in Bruce’s touch felt like a noose. He shoved Bruce away from him, stomped into his and Dick’s room and slammed the door behind him. 

But that wasn’t enough. No, now he wanted to hit, and smash. He wanted to watch the whole earth burn. He wanted the earth Conner had died for to pay-- because it hadn’t been worth it. He wanted to feel the skin of his knuckles split as he pounded into his enemies. He --- He--

Tim picked up a bowl filled with chocolate bars on the dresser and lifted it up over his head. He threw it with all of his might. The shards flew like shrapnel. It wasn’t enough. Tim turned to the television. It was screwed into the ship's wall, but it didn’t matter. He put his foot on the wall and pushed hard against it. It came away with a satisfying screech.

The door to the room flew open, but Tim was too intent on his task. He paid no mind to the cry of surprise, or to the man shouting his name. He lifted the television high.

Tim felt something grab him from behind. He swung his elbows back instinctively and the TV smacked the wall as he brandished it about. A huff of air blew into his hair as he struck Bruce hard in the ribs, but he still didn’t let go. 

Tim dropped the television and picked up his legs kicking back against the man with all his might.

“Let me go!” Tim screamed feeling something tear in his throat. 

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Bruce whispered into his hair

But that was a lie. Tim wanted to rage at him. He wanted Bruce to hurt as badly as he did. How would he feel if he had lost everything? Tim flung himself down forgetting all of his training and simply thrashing like a wretched worm fastened to a hook. Tim felt Bruce lose his balance and they began to topple. 

Bruce fell back pulling Tim on top of him so that he wouldn’t strike the ground. Bruce lay on the ground amongst the glass and crockery and just held Tim to him as he kicked and hit and bit and screamed. 

“I hate you! I hate you!” Tim wasn’t sure who he was talking to. It could have been anyone, everyone. 

“You’re okay. Just breathe, Tim. Just breathe.” Bruce didn’t fight him as Tim marked and made him bleed. 

“Bring him back! You-- You--Bring him back!” He’s face was hot and wet. His breath came in gasps and Tim suddenly was just so tired. His arms were lead and his legs jello. Bruce just pulled him closer. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Why would he do that?” Tim fell against his guardian too tired to fight anymore. “Why would Kon--” Tim closed his eyes. He could still see his best friend laying on the battlefield. He could still smell the blood-- feel the dust in the air. “I wasn’t even there!” He whispered. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim.” 

“Why am I never in time?” Tim weakly tried to pull away, but Bruce’s grip was iron. “Why weren’t you there? How could you let him-- any of them.”

Tim wasn’t sure who he was talking about, Conner or his Dad. It didn’t matter. It was true either way-- Batman and Robin had saved neither. 

Tim looked up at Bruce and was surprised to find he too was crying. 

“I’m just so angry.” Tim found it easier to talk to Bruce’s chest. “I’m just so mad at you. At him. At Dad.” 

“I know.” Bruce sniffed. “That’s okay. You can be mad for as long as you need to be.”

“Does…it go away?” 

“You know it doesn’t.” Bruce sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position pulling Tim with him. “But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t get easier. One day you’ll wake up and getting out of bed won’t be so impossible, and laughing won’t feel as cruel.”

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier.”

“I didn’t either. But then Dick showed up and--” Bruce looked at the door still slightly ajar from when he had burst in to stop him. “He made me want to be better.”

Tim snorted. “Dick does that.”

“Yeah. He does.” Bruce agreed. 

Tim stood up and looked around. Shards of pottery and glass from the television littered the floor and beds. The wall had wires hanging down with exposed edges, and candy bars were squashed and strewn about the room. 

“I’m sorry about the mess.” And he was, he realized. He was sorry. Tim wondered if that was the first thing he had felt in a week other than anger. 

“It’s okay. I’ll get a maid to come by later. You two can sleep in my room and I’ll stay on the couch.” Bruce shrugged up at him from where he was still sitting on the floor. 

Tim reached down offering him his hand. 

Bruce grinned and took it. He groaned as he allowed Tim to pull him to his feet. Tim frowned looking at the bite marks on Bruce’s arm. He had cuts littering his legs and face. Tim blinked. He had-- 

Bruce seemed to realize Tim’s returned distress, for he closed the gap between them quickly and pulled him to his chest once more. “It’s okay. I’m here, bud.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine.” Bruce promised solemnly. 

Bruce led him back to the lounge, and sat him at the small breakfast table. Alfred and Dick were mysteriously absent--their game abandoned on the table. 

Bruce was bustling about in the kitchenette. “Here how about some fruit?” 

Tim eyed it morosely. He wasn’t hungry. 

Bruce held back a sigh and sat across from him. “I know it’s not very exciting, but it will make you feel better. Then you can sleep.”

Tim felt his arms move but didn’t think he told them to. He fumbled for a moment trying to peel the fruit, but Bruce took pity on him and pulled it gently from his hands. Tim pressed his lips together and watched. He studied the way Bruce’s fingers moved and how juice ran down his arms. He memorized the patterns of white webbing on each slice as it was handed to him. He analyzed the amount of liquid in each section. Slowly his body began to relax and it didn’t feel like he was chewing carpet. 

After he had finished his glass of water and orange Bruce handed him a baby wipe and left him alone. Tim found it was... nice. Bruce sat on the sofa with the TV on. It was muted but the light from the screen reflected across the man’s face. Tim just sat watching. Not the TV but Bruce’s face. If he noticed he didn’t give any sign. He just kept his eyes fixed on the cartoon. 

“Bruce?” 

Bruce hummed and turned, giving him his full attention. 

“Why are we here?”

“What do you mean?” a small crease formed in between Bruce’s eyes. 

“Here, on this ship.”

“Oh. Bruce relaxed slightly. “I thought-- Dick thought we needed a break.”

“So that’s it. There’s no--” Tim cast around for some reason. Anything would be more understandable then a break. “--smuggling coup or secret signal in the middle of the sea causing destruction?”

“No.” Bruce tilted his head. “It’s just a cruise Tim. We won't be doing anything until Alfred flies home once we reach Spain.”

“So this isn’t part of your plan to rebuild Batman?” Tim would rather be training then… whatever it was he was here doing.

“No. We needed a break.”

“Well what if I don’t want a break? What if I want to--” Tim didn’t know what he wanted now that he thought about it. He wanted to do nothing. He wanted to curl up and never do anything ever again. He wanted to work. He wanted to spend hours breaking codes and deciphering clues. He wanted to run and kick and jump. He wanted to sit down and never get up again. 

He huffed and sank back into his chair. 

“I was thinking about--” Bruce cleared his throat. “I was thinking about Conner.” 

Tim bit his lip. 

“We had-- did you want to do anything more? The funeral wasn’t really-- He always struck me as more a rock and roll kind of guy than Sunday hymns.” Bruce pinched his nose. “I’m not saying this right.” 

Tim could feel his eyes burning. Bruce was right. Conner would have hated the funeral. It was boring. There had been nothing really Conner about it. 

“When Dick’s parents died. I did it wrong. I planned a nice funeral but it wasn’t John or Mary and Dick hated it. So…” Bruce glanced nervously at Tim as if unsure if he should continue. “When we were more comfortable around each other he asked if we could go and see them. But he didn’t want to go to their graves. We went to the park and he swung as high as he could go on the swings. Then we went to the beach and made sand castles in the sun. Dick wanted to do all the things that... felt like them, because he said that that was the closest he could get to the real thing now.”

Tim couldn’t help the slight smile that stretched across his face. That sounded like something Dick would do. 

“So I guess what I’m saying is -- do you want to do anything for Conner?”

The room was heavy with anticipation. But Tim didn’t think even Dick’s grieving guide could help him. It wasn’t that he felt he had lost more than Dick or Bruce, he just wasn’t as strong as they were. He didn’t have the original Robin’s resilience or Batman’s steel. He was just Tim-- there because someone had to be. “I don’t know, Bruce.” 

They sat there for a long time just rocking with the ship over the waves. The room grew dark and Tim found himself wondering when Bruce had turned off the lights. The colors of the television screen danced around the room. The colors  _ hurt _ . 

He didn’t want to see a rainbow of shades and hues. He only wanted black and red. It was as if the cones in his eyes couldn’t grasp the light refracting anymore. And all that was left was a world of darkness and blood. But it didn’t feel scary Tim decided. It felt safe and familiar and like Conner.


	2. The Second First Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is the promised ending. I hope it satisfies you clownbobs. This has been your assassynation. 
> 
> As always I love to hear from you! Comments and Kudos are my war paint!

The second first breath is not found in hospital rooms

Or in nurseries were babies cry 

It’s found in battlefields after the bombing ends

It is found in grown men’s relief:

You made it home too.

* * *

Conner wondered if Gotham had become darker in his absence. The night sky was not so much a green grey as it was a blackened fog. Perhaps it only seemed darker then he remembered, as most of his time had been spent in Bristol rather than in the City to keep Bruce content. He had a strict no powers in Gotham rule, that he rarely extended to exclude his children’s friends. But that didn’t matter. Not today anyway. He could deal with Batman’s glare; he was too happy to be home. 

What mattered was he was back. It didn’t matter what changes accrued in his absence. It mattered not that his favorite cafe had closed or that he had missed so much school. It didn’t matter. Because this was the 21st century and he was home. The Kents had been-- well overjoyed didn’t really cover it. He would never forget the way Clark clung to him. Or the way Martha tried to hide her tears. But as wonderful as seeing his family had been he hadn’t been able to stay long. It took so long to get back and the person he found he missed most hadn’t been any of the Kents. How many times had he wished for Tim, while he had been away? How many times had he turned to tell him a joke or ask him a question before he remembered that he wasn’t there?

Conner was ready to pull that little nerd of a best friend into a hug. He would never be able to tell Tim how often he had saved him when he had been stranded, lost in time and space. For it had been Tim’s voice that told him to think when he wanted to panic. It was Tim’s voice that would tell him to plan, and wait when he wanted to leap into a fight. Tim and the years of their friendship had ensured Conner had enough sense and dumb luck to get home. 

So Conner found himself scouring Gotham for Robin. However when he saw him he looked-- well, he looked nothing like the Robin he had left behind. Were it not for the fact that he had memorized the outline of his friend he would have feared that like the second Robin, Tim had fallen and been replaced. But that was-- sure as the sun rose east-- Tim’s silhouette. It didn’t matter that his cape was different, it didn’t matter that his bright green gloves, yellow tinted cape were gone or that he was now shrouded in black and red. That was  _ Tim _ . 

Robin stiffened as Conner stepped lightly onto the roof. It didn’t matter how lightly he tread, he never could sneak up on a bat. 

“Hey, Robin.” Conner smiled.

If Tim had stiffened at the sound of his boots it was nothing to what happened when he heard Conner’s voice. He didn’t so much as breathe.

“Err… Tim?” Conner felt his smile slip from his face and concern filled his chest. 

Tim turned slowly. His face looked gaunt even under the mask. His cheekbones were more pronounced and his hair was much longer than he had ever kept it. But that wasn’t what made Conner nervous. It was the way Tim was looking at him. 

“Tim?” Conner suddenly wondered if he should have called Batman before just coming to town. Had he flown into something… well some sort of situation only Gotham could produce. 

Tim reached up to his face and slipped a finger under his mask. Slowly he pried it from his skin. Conner winced as he watched. He hated that Tim would never take time to remove it properly. He wondered if he took to wearing makeup during the day to cover the irritated skin he left on his face. 

Tim’s blue eyes were wide and fearful. Conner moved to reassure him, but the second he moved, Tim stumbled back. 

“Not real.” 

Had Conner not had super hearing he doubted he would have caught the phase. “Tim, what do you--”

Tim reached down with a shaking hand and pressed something on his belt. A small light appeared on the buckle. Conner had never seen Tim use it before, but he knew what it meant. Batman was coming. 

Conner listened intently as voices flooded into Tim’s comm unit.

“Robin report!” 

“Robin?”

“Robin’s vitals are stable. But his heart rate is elevated.” The flood of voices made Conner oddly happy. How many times had he spent weekends having Bruce yell at him and Tim? How many times had Dick taken them out for a day trip, that more often than not turned into an overnight adventure? Were the situation not serious he would have found himself smiling.

“Tim! Answer me!” Bruce sounded afraid. 

Conner moved forward again. He should reassure them. Tim was fine. He was right there. But Tim was speaking again, and Conner froze.

“Gas exposure--” Tim gave a long sniff. Scarecrow maybe?” 

Conner’s eyes went wide, he stopped breathing. He could hold his breath for as long as he needed. He  _ wouldn’t  _ hurt Tim. He definitely should have called ahead. How could he have been so stupid? Tim wouldn’t be able to hold him down alone, if Conner was exposed. 

“Taking the antidote now.” Tim’s voice shook as he reached into his belt. But he made no move to give the injection to the alien opposite him. Instead he gave it to himself. 

“I’m only three minutes away. Just breathe Tim.” Bruce’s voice sounded so sad. Conner continued to hold his breath. 

“What are you seeing?” Nightwing asked gently.

Tim choked back a sob. “Conner--”

Conner felt his blood run cold. He thought he was-- “No. Tim I’m real!” Conner crossed the roof at inhuman speeds and took hold of both Tim’s arms. 

Tim screwed his eyes shut. “Dad. Make it stop.” 

“Tim it’s okay, just breathe.” Bruce sounded so steady. Conner felt a surge of love for his best friend’s adoptive father. Tim needed good caring people in his life. 

“Tim, I’m real! Look!” Conner pulled the earwig from his friend's ear. “Batman!” Conner all but shouted into the microphone. 

The soothing chatter that had been filling the line stopped. It was as if all of Gotham had been silenced. 

“Conner?” Dick’s voice was thick with disbelief. “You’re--”

“Oracle, get Superman on the line now!” Batman ordered cutting off whatever Dick had been about to say.

“Connecting him now.” There was a very pregnant pause in which whoever this Oracle was called Superman. Conner thought they sounded like Batgirl, but then he had been gone for so long. “You’re on.”

“Superman, we have an individual in Gotham claiming to be Kon-el.”

“Batman? Oh yeah so he found you?” Clark sounded very confused. And Conner couldn’t help but pity him. What an odd call to have to take. 

“They don’t think I’m real.” Conner said into the headset, just as the Dark Knight himself landed hard on the roof. He was moving towards Conner like a vengeful spirit. Conner let go of Tim and backed away quickly, before Bruce could barrel into him. 

“Of course you're real!” Clark sounded rather disconcerted. 

Batman pulled Tim to him and dropped his cape over top him, likely to cover his maskless face. 

Conner couldn’t see Bruce’s face under the cowl but he could guess from the set of his jaw, the man was furious. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me he was back?” Yep he was mad.

“Well considering he went straight from here to see T--Robin, no. I thought that would be cleared up pretty quickly.” 

Conner watched Batman’s face intently. As a second figure joined them. Nightwing was watching them from the next roof over, perched much like a bird of prey. 

“You’re sure?” Batman still had Tim completely obscured from view. 

“Of course I’m sure. We went to the Fortress.” Clark said indigently. 

Suddenly Dick was leaping from his perch and Conner found a whopping 200 pounds of pure muscle tackling him. Conner allowed himself to be tackled and laughed at the feeling. Dick had always been like an older brother to him. But as much as Conner had missed him. Dick wasn’t who he needed to see most. 

Bruce was murmuring something to Tim and Conner decided he couldn’t listen. What if Tim was still convinced he wasn’t real. Conner didn’t think he could handle that kind of pain in his best friend’s voice. 

Whatever Bruce had said to Tim seemed to have been accepted by the teen. He was pulling away from his mentor and looking at Conner with tear-filled eyes. 

Dick was suddenly on the other side of the roof with Bruce. And Tim was taking a shaky step forward. 

“You’re-- How?” 

Conner laughed. Trust Tim to want to have all the details. “You know I’m not really sure I understand it all, but I ended up in the future and let me tell you it was lacking my favorite people. So I came back as soon as I could. But I know it’s-- I know I've been gone for a long time.”

Suddenly he felt unsure what if Tim didn’t want to be friends with him anymore? But Tim took another small step, and his fears melted. Conner closed the gap and pulled his friend into a tight hug. 

“This doesn't feel real.” Tim whispered. 

“I promise it is.” Conner couldn’t imagine what Tim had gone through. They had often joked over the years that Tim would be the first of the two to die due to his life in Gotham. But Conner couldn’t imagine going through that. Would he be able to handle that? How had Tim handled his death? 

“You’re not going away?” 

Conner wasn’t sure if Tim was asking for an answer. He wanted to promise that Tim wouldn’t have to lose him ever again. But then what was the alternative-- Tim dying first. Conner pulled him tighter. He couldn’t promise that. He couldn’t only say that he was here for now. 

“You improved the suit I see.” Conner tried to break the tension with a joke. “I mean the yellow was more Bart’s style anyway.”

Tim pulled away. “I wanted to-- me and Cassie both wanted to honor you.”

Conner blinked. Tim was wearing red and-- Oh. They were his colors. He had left behind the traditional mantle of his childhood hero to remember  _ him _ .

Conner swore under his breath. 

Dick cleared his throat. “Maybe we should move this reunion to the cave.”

Batman seemed to shake from his stupor. “Here take the car.” 

Tim caught the keys on pure reflex. “The car--”

“I’ve still got things to do out here. Oracle had some…” Bruce trailed off. Conner wondered if he was making up a task. 

“Yes, it was a break in on 84th and Richman that I wanted you to look into.” Oracle chirped on the comm unit. Conner made a mental note to ask why Barbara was going by Oracle now.

“Yeah, the break in.” Yep, he was definitely making up things, Conner decided, as Bruce fumbled over his words. “I’ll bring the bike in with me at the end of the night.”

“You never let me drive.” Tim looked at Bruce in confusion. 

“Robin, just take the Batmobile and go before he changes his mind.” Nightwing laughed. 

So Conner found himself in the passenger seat of the Batmobile next to Tim. Tim was glancing at him every few seconds as if to check he was still there. Conner wondered if Batman had made a wise decision in allowing Tim to take the car. After the fifth glance his way, Conner sighed.

“Still here, Tim.”

Tim stiffened, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. “I just-- It’s been so long. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”

Conner bit his lip and watched the city zooming past through the windshield for a moment. He didn’t know how to begin to fix this. He didn’t know how to help his friend heal from whatever hell he had been left in, but he could start trying. 

“What do you say, we see what this thing can really do?” After all, when would he ever have the chance to ride in the Batmobile again? 

A small smirk formed on Tim’s face. “You're going to regret asking.” 

His foot dropped to the floor of the car and Conner laughed as he was thrown back into his seat. A bell like sound filled the car. And Conner was sure in that moment, the sound of Tim’s laughter was the best thing in the world. 


End file.
